Genus: Concert-Goer Jerkus

(picture from Rolling Stone)

Hubby and I attend a lot of concerts. I've never counted them up, but I'll bet we are nearing a hundred over our relationship. We really love finding an artist early on and participating in their rise. This weekend we got to see two artists we have been following for awhile. Saturday night we went to The Rave to see Shooter Jennings and here is where we ran into the breed known as Concert-Goer Jerkus.

There are many different families inside this breed (to continute my biological metaphor) and we seem to run into a few of them at every concert, especially those that are standing-room only. I have come to believe that it is my height that causes us to always be in their presence. You see, I'm 5'4" (maybe 5'6" in my cowboy boots) so seeing the stage at a standing-room only show is somewhat of a challenge among the throngs. It is okay, I've accepted it. But it does mean I spend as much time trying to see as I do enjoying the concert, and I tend to enjoy/be annoyed by a whole other show put on by members of this breed around me. For the most part, they are all jerks, and they all seem to feel they are at a private concert just for them, and that their actions don't affect anyone. On Saturday night, we ran into the whole variety of this breed in one group. They were all friends and they insisted that they had "their spot" at the front by the barricade, despite their constant leaving it and then reappearing to try and squeeze back in from the bar, bathroom, and who knows where else. I'll break it down for you.

***Warning: This remainder of this post is largely sarcastic and meant to be funny.***

Pink fuzzy sweater girl: It should be mentioned that Shooter Jennings is outlaw country. Your pink fuzzy off-the-shoulder sweater and sweet little hairdo made you stick out like a sore thumb. Unfortunately, your mouth and what came out of it was neither sweet nor pretty. Your only saving grace was your apparent attempt to control your boyfriend:

Drunk and Stumbling guy: Yes, we know you and your group have been tailgating since (1pm, 3pm, 5pm - no one in your group could decide. But seriously, who tailgates at The Rave?) and clearly you have been the poster child for drinking all day. You are so drunk that your eyes no longer open fully and you can not, no matter how hard you try, stand up straight. Even hanging on to your girl, you couldn't hold yourself up. You knocked into me and stepped on my feet at least 15 times. And when you turned around to apologize to my husband for "knocking into his old lady" you got an earful from me about it - for calling me someone's old lady, not for knocking into me. Your attempt to take on the two men to our right (who are easily twice the size of my husband and you sir, were smaller than my husband) when they got fed up with you was downright amusing.

High as a Kite guy: You also couldn't stand up straight. Your swaying was incredible - it was like watching one of those punching bags that won't fall over. What was even more incredible - your ability to come within millimeters - millimeters! of everyone around you without actually touching them. No, I did not appreciate you smoking your doobie (hubby thinks its funny that I called it that and I guess it just proves how little I know about drugs) right in front of me. Believe it or not, not everyone appreciates a free contact high.

Way too tall for the front row guy: You are easily at least 6'5". Yes, your friends are less than tall, but you sir, especially in your cowboy hat, are too tall for the front row. You are also too tall for the second, third, and fourth rows. Thank you for being kind enough to not stand in front of me when you returned from your twentieth beer run in an hour, even if I had to ask you not to.

Girl who thinks she is desperately hot: Number one, you aren't as hot as you think you are. Number two, your friend lied to you when you asked her if your red hooker boots looked like cowboy boots in the dark. They don't. And the reason you are having some trouble walking in them isn't because of your blood alcohol level, it is because there is a plastic cup stuck on one of your pointy toes. Your gyrating and clamoring for the act's attention along the front barricade is not only disgusting, but sadly amusing. Oh, and your little tank top that says "Wanna Spoon?" isn't cute, but it does go with your boyfriend's shirt very well (which said "I love Vag**a" - I don't want that to be searchable). Oh, and he didn't really appreciate how you had vertical relations with every guy in a 10 foot radius, even though he pretended to.

Boyfriend of desperately un-hot girl: Yes, you have what appear to be fairly well sculpted arms underneath your UnderArmour tight shirt, but it also shows off well your beer belly which is clearly many years aged, and um, not so hot.
Your huge saving grace was the pure hilarity that ensued between hubby and I when you tore off your shirt (well, lifted it up and got it stuck around your uplifted arms to be exact) and tried to show Shooter Jennings your Waylon Jennings tattoo that takes up half of your back. (Waylon Jennings was Shooter's dad for those of you who are wondering). Why was this so funny? Because suddenly we realized you were "Annoying Tattoo Guy" from the State Fair concert this year. Shooter didn't care about your tattoo then (even though you stood there with your shirt off pointing at your back for a WHOLE song) and your girlfriend's hand waving and pointing didn't get him to care anymore this time either. In fact, he never even looked your way. But it was funny! Oh yes, and your girlfriend's matching mini-version of your tattoo on her lower back is just sad.

One additional member of this species we ran into:

Older Soccer Mom with a Digital Camera: Honey, enjoy the show and stop trying to take pictures for your scrapbook pages. Seriously, I don't like your camera being held up in front of me anymore than anyone else does. I already let you squeeze past me twice to "get a picture", and I have found that is all you do - try to get a picture. You missed the concert. I'm even a professional photographer and I'm telling you to stop. A subset of this variety is the perpetual cell-phone camera picture taker.

It should be noted that Pink Fuzzy Sweater Girl eventually got fed up with Drunk and Stumbling Boyfriend (because all of her yelling did nothing to control him) and left the immediate area, causing him to be under the control of Desperately Un-hot girl. She attempted holding him in a kung-fu grip by the shirt and Nose (yes, Nose!) and also gyrating on him in an effort to control him and eventually gave up and escorted him out to the awaiting and pissed off Pink Fuzzy Sweater Girl (I can only assume). Earlier in the evening, Drunk and Stumbling guy almost lit his girlfriend's hair on fire twice as he tried to light a cigarette. She is totally unaware of this.

In the end, the concert was fantastic. And the antics of Concert-Goer Jerkus will fade.